


—The Best Gesture of My Brain is Less Than

by aimmyarrowshigh, nichestars



Series: Since Feeling Is First [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Canon Compliant, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Older Woman/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 04:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10733805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimmyarrowshigh/pseuds/aimmyarrowshigh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nichestars/pseuds/nichestars
Summary: It feels strange, beckoning him to follow her with one hand, not looking back to see if he is.She doesn't need to look back. She may only rarely reach out for the Force, but some things she still simplyknows. Besides, Poe is a Dameron, and Damerons are anything but opaque with their feelings. He's never been anything but the picture of decorum, but Leia hasn't forgotten how to tell when a man's interested in her.---Or, Poe is Leia's most trusted pilot, and Poe trusts Leia with his virginity.





	—The Best Gesture of My Brain is Less Than

**Author's Note:**

> **There is a power imbalance inherent to Poe and Leia, since he is her subordinate in a ranked military**. This is discussed before and after sex by the characters and all acts are initiated with full conscientious consent, but ymmv. There is no title-play or power-humiliation involved in this fic with regard to either their actual positions or their age difference.

The reports are starting to blur across the backlighting of Leia's datapad when a steaming pot of caf appears in her peripheral vision, and Poe tops off her mug. He eases into the seat next to hers and pours himself a cup, sets down a pile of sugar packets between them. 

"General." He nods with a smile before he takes out his own datapad. Neither of them are in uniform; Poe's wearing an old Max Rebo shirt that _must_ have belonged to Kes, once upon a time. It's a little baggy in the shoulders, the neck sagging dangerously low on Poe's collarbones. 

Leia empties a sugar packet into her cup and takes a long, grateful sip. "Poe," she says. "Lots of work tonight?"

"Not too much, ma'am. But I needed some caf and it looked like you could use a top-up." 

Leia tries not to smile. She doesn't need to spoil him. "I did, thank you." She slides the datapad off. "I don't know why I'm bothering; we're not going to suddenly find a cache of credits where they don't exist."

Poe grimaces. "I'm going to need something stronger for caf for that conversation, General." 

"Yeah, me, too." Leia sighs and lets herself close her eyes for a moment. When she opens them, Poe is still sitting beside her, nursing his own mug. "Tell me something good."

Poe hums thoughtfully, and thumbs off a drop of caf from the rim of his cup. "It's the rainy season back on Yavin, which means all the new tree-peepers are probably hatched." 

Leia smiles. "And I bet they're driving your dad crazy."

"He always says they keep him up all night." Poe returns her smile with a knowing grin.

They both know Kes Dameron barely sleeps, anyway.

"He can ship 'em here," Leia suggests. "Won't make a difference to either of us, huh."

"I wouldn't mind," Poe agrees. "They always sound like home to me."

"I like Yavin," Leia says. She stirs another sugar into her caf. "Those, what are they -- the monkeys you have there? With the blue tails? There was a little one that I used to let ride around on my shoulder out there."

"Woolamanders," Poe nods. "I swear, every spring there was a baby that'd get washed out of its nest in the rains and if we couldn't find where it came from, Dad'd take it in, keep it till it outgrew the flour sack slings he'd make for them." 

Leia laughs. "That sounds like Kes. I'm sure Shara loved that."

"She used to say he was the worst baby hog," Poe laughs. "Didn't live close enough to the neighbors to babysit their kids, so he had to make do with woolamanders." 

Leia hides her smile in the rim of the caf cup and shakes her head. "Maybe I'll let him keep the tree-peepers, then."

Poe shakes his head. "They're not cuddly enough for him." He sighs. "I keep thinking one day I'll comm him and he'll have found some other small animal or kid to adopt."

"There are worse problems." Leia smiles at Poe again. He’s an easy man to smile at. There are dark circles under his eyes, but she knows she doesn't look at better.

"Oh, I know. I'd just feel better if he had someone living out there on the ranch with him," Poe admits.

Leia knows the feeling: she's always been glad when Chewbacca was out on whatever claptrap Han's flying, rather than letting him jump into problems all alone -- 

"Well, if we can find 1.23 billion credits hiding in someone's attic," Leia settles on, "You can go join in sooner with the Dameron animal sanctuary."

"Even if we had the credits," Poe says, seriously, "I'm not leaving until this is done, and I don't think you are either."

"No. But if we had the credits, it could be done a lot faster." Leia sighs and turns the powered-down datapad over onto its face. She doesn't want to deal with it.

"Maybe we do need something stronger," Poe says. "I could raid the pilot's stash." 

"Ha!" Leia laughs. "I haven't swilled that excuse for hooch since -- well, I don't want to say, it'll make me feel old. Come on." She stands up. "I have a tequila Mimbana in my quarters."

"Kriff," Poe says, "Alright. That's the good stuff." 

"Damn right." Leia lets him take her mug, and he puts the dregs of both of their caf into the chute.

Normally, this is where their nighttime interaction ends: for the last month, they meet in the officers' mess, pretend it's a coincidence, drink some caf, chat, and then Leia feels Poe's eyes on her back as she heads back to her quarters alone.

It feels strange, beckoning him to follow her with one hand, not looking back to see if he is. 

She doesn't need to look back. She may only rarely reach out for the Force, but some things she still simply _knows_. Besides, Poe is a Dameron, and Damerons are anything but opaque with their feelings. He's never been anything but the picture of decorum, but Leia hasn't forgotten how to tell when a man's interested in her.

Leia shakes her head a little. She'd only invited him back to her room for a drink. Nothing more. He's smart, he's dedicated, he's resourceful; he'll have some ideas about this budget crunch.

Still, as she unlocks the magbolt on her door, she's abruptly aware of how long it's been since she had a man in her personal quarters. And even longer since a man this beautiful and _young_.

Poe follows her inside and kneels to take off his boots before she even has to ask.

He's careful, stuffing the laces back inside as he lines them up neatly against the wall by the door. 

She watches him, pretty and thirty, until she feels like maybe she shouldn't watch him anymore and turns to find the bottle of booze from Mimban.

Poe is waiting where she left him, when she turns around, sock-feet on her rug by the door. "Here," she says, holding out the bottle. "Make yourself useful, Dameron, open this while I get the cups."

Poe grins at her with all of his teeth and takes the bottle. "You don't even want me to stay to share this, you just needed a big, strong man."

"If I needed a big, strong man, I'd find L'ulo or Wexley," Leia deadpans. 

"I'm wounded!" Poe laughs.

Leia waves an impatient hand and crouches down to rummage in a box for the second shot glass. She hasn't needed it in -- 

She hasn't needed it in a long time.

Poe has the bottle open when she locates the second glass and stands, holds them steady for him to pour. 

"A la Fuerza," Leia toasts, and she clinks their tiny glasses together before taking a sip of the liquor.

Poe nods solemnly and tips his back. His adam's apple bobs, and Leia closes her eyes, lets the burn of the liquor distract her.

It takes her three sips to finish hers, because she's just too old to throw back shots anymore and anyway, this bottle was expensive and can stand to be sipped. The face Poe makes when he swallows makes her snort a laugh.

"Kriff," Poe says, exhaling. "I'm used to _jet juice_ and think that's strong."

"I don't miss those days," Leia says. "Ugh, I need to sit down. I'm too old to be drinking this late at night." 

"Me, too," Poe says. He doesn't follow her to sit on the bed, though, and instead settles himself on the little chair in front of her vanity mirror. Leia's already had enough booze to roll her eyes and giggle -- giggle! -- when Poe turns to fix his hair in the mirror like it's a reflex.

"What?" Poe laughs. "I'm drinking with the general, I have to be sure I don't look like a complete mess."

"You know you look good," Leia says, and Poe just keeps laughing.

He does look good, even with the dim light of her recessed lamps shadowing the hollows under his eyes darker than usual. 

Poe's ears tip in pink. 

Leia holds out her glass, and he fills it again. His face has shifted to something more serious. "We'll find the credits, General." 

"I don't want to talk about that," Leia says instead of _I don't think we will this time_. "What was keeping _you_ up tonight?"

"You," Poe says, and turns pinker, pours more of the tequila into his glass and swallows it painfully. "You looked like you needed company." 

Leia is quiet for a second at that.

"Not that--" Poe licks his lips. "I only meant--"

"No, you're right, and that's very -- that's nice of you, Poe." Leia sets her glass down on the footlocker at her bedside and moves before patting the mattress beside her. "Come sit over here, we're being too loud. Tell me what's been on your mind."

Poe comes immediately, careful as he perches on the edge of the bed. "You never get enough rest, ma'am. I know you have a lot to do, but you have to take care of yourself, too."

Leia laughs softly. "I could say the same to you."

"You don't have to worry about me," Poe says, dimpling. He looks flattered that she would.

"I'm worried about all of you," Leia says. "I know the NRDF sees its soldiers as pretty replaceable, but I don't. You haven't been here long enough to know that, but you will."

A shadow crosses Poe's face so fast Leia might think she imagined it, if she couldn't feel it, too. His knee bobs nervously. "I knew that when I came."

"And I'm glad you did." Leia picks up the glass again and debates another shot, twisting the rim between her fingers. 

"Me too." Poe is watching her hands when she glances over.

Leia swallows, looks at his handsome face. He's got a thin layer of stubble on his chin that she knows will be gone at the first morning briefing, but his eyes are bright.

He's leaning in, just a little, like he might not even realize he's doing it, and his eyes have slid up from her hands to her mouth. Leia doesn't move towards him, but she doesn't move away, either. She touches his chest with the flat of her palm -- both a welcome and a wake-up.

Poe's hand touches her knee, and he leans in, his mouth pressing to hers softly. Leia can feel his hitched intake of breath before he blinks, and straightens. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have--" 

"Poe, Poe," Leia catches him before he moves off the bed. "It's okay."

"I should've asked," Poe says, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I thought --" he chews at the inside of his cheek, and his jaw tics.

"It's okay," Leia murmurs again, and she rubs her thumb against his pounding heartbeat where her hand is still resting on his chest. "You were right."

He looks up at her, through those silly thick eyelashes, his mother's eyes, and Leia resists a sigh at the inevitability of this. _Damerons_.

"Do you want this?" She asks. "It's not... if you just kissed me because you think that's what _I_ want, then you should go."

Poe laughs, tension leaving his chin to make way for dimples. "Um, no, ma'am, that's... that's not why I kissed you." He licks his lips again. " _Is_ that what you want, though?"

Leia allows herself the internal debate: if she says yes, she's breaking all protocol in every way. But if she says no, she'll be lying, and they'll both know it. She's allowed to be happy; Han even said so. _Oh, princess, find a real hero to warm your bed, you deserve that_. 

"If it's not, I really should go," Poe says, quietly. "We don't have to ever talk about it; I won't let it be weird, General." 

"Don't go," Leia says. "Just... kiss me again."

Poe's hand curls over her knee, warm and steady. "Yes ma'am." 

Leia leans in, this time, and lets her hand curve up from his chest over his shoulder and down his arm, feeling out the shape of him.

Poe makes a soft noise and kisses her, lips closing on hers.

Leia's surprised at the way it flutters in her belly, the excitement of getting a good kiss. 

He's eager, she can feel it in the tremor of his bicep, the way his entire body has turned towards her like she's the sun, but he kisses her like he's not, like he's willing to wait for her to deepen the kiss.

Always proper, always thoughtful, that Poe Dameron.

Leia licks her lips, and his, and he smiles against her mouth.

Poe exhales an almost-laugh and tilts his head to kiss her more deeply. His stubble rubs against her chin, her upper lip. 

Leia sighs and squeezes his arm, opens her mouth for him. 

Poe rests his hand so, so lightly on her waist, like he's waiting for her to pull back and say this was all a mistake. It would be laughable if Leia weren't so busy licking into his mouth. 

Slowly, Poe's fingers curve around her waist and his other hand moves to match it, holding her sweetly.

Leia decides she doesn't care if she scandalizes him. She pulls away briefly, to catch her breath and scoot back on the mattress. 

He follows as easily as she had hoped he would. Poe catches himself on one of his hands, leaning over her but still only touching her waist. He's holding his weight away from her like he doesn't want her to notice that he’s hard in his pants, but Leia's been around the block enough times to be able to tell.

He leans their foreheads together for a moment before he kisses her again, and Leia has to close her eyes at how warm his gaze is. 

She reaches behind herself to rearrange a pillow for her aching neck. Poe catches on immediately, helping to arrange it, his fingers lingering at her shoulders and throat. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but instead just shakes his head a little and leans down to kiss her again.

He's more assured this time, although no less gentle, and Leia finds herself tugging at his arms, the front of his shirt to get him to settle over her more fully. 

He complies. He's warm and solid and has firm muscle under the worn t-shirt, and he smells like stale coffee and fresh cedar and lemon and motor oil. It’s a young man’s cologne, not like heavy Corellian nerf leather and soldering sparks and that shadow-scent of hyperspace.

Leia's hand smoothes down his spine and Poe shivers, laughing against her lips. 

"Sorry. Tickles."

She rucks her hand under the shirt to run her nails over his soft skin instead. "Less ticklish?"

"Uh," Poe says, his voice shifting to a lower register. "Not exactly?"

"Well, then -- "

"I didn't say I didn't like it," Poe says quickly, and Leia smirks as she runs her nails up his back again.

"Kriff," Poe says, faintly, and kisses her, hard.

His fingertips are hard like -- like all pilots' are, when he runs them over her cheek and around her ear and down her throat. The callouses scratch lightly at her collarbones, and Leia hums appreciatively. She owes it to Poe to be entirely present in this moment.

When Leia bites his lip, he groans against her teeth, a low-throaty _man_ sound that she's missed. 

His hand slides back up her throat, his fingertips tracing the shell of her ear, his thumb massaging the hinge of her jaw.

She can tell that he wants to touch her hair, but Leia doesn't really let people touch her hair. She nestles back against the pillow, and Poe's fingers move to trail down her arm, caress her wrist, instead.

He hesitates, twining their fingers together, but does it anyway, his slightly sweaty palm pressed to hers against the bedspread. 

"If you want to do anything else," he says, quietly, "You should let me take care of you first. I'm probably going to embarrass myself, I’ve never done this before.” Poe lifts his head and bites his lip, glancing down at her. "Is that an issue?"

Leia shakes her head and touches his cheek. "Not if it's not an issue for you. I don't want to -- if you're waiting to get married...?"

Poe laughs, delightful and warm, and shakes his head. "No, no, I just -- just waiting for the right moment, I guess."

"You sure that's now?" Leia asks dryly. "At two in the morning on a Benduday when we both smell like stale caf?"

Poe wrinkles his eyebrows. "Is that how it feels to you? I thought it was sort of -- romantic, it's late and we're the only ones up, and we found each other..." the corners of his mouth tip up to make sure she knows he's at least partially joking.

Leia is not a person who melts (anymore), but this softens her and she smiles.

Poe's grin spreads wider. "I think that's pretty special."

"Alright," Leia agrees. "As long as you're not gonna regret it and have to step down from my command. I need to keep you around."

"I certainly hope you do keep me around," Poe says, eyelashes heavy and fluttering.

Leia doesn't roll her eyes, but she does close them as she leans in to kiss him again. She's _missed_ being kissed until her knees feel weak.

This time Poe's fingers do edge into the hair at the nape of her neck, massaging slightly.

Leia leans into the touch, lets the heat of his palm leech into her temple and ease the last of the long day's headache. She's so used to it that it seems strange when it's gone.

"You're gorgeous," Poe murmurs. "Thank you."

"Shush," Leia says. "I don't need to hear it, Poe."

"I know, but it's true," Poe says. "And I need to say it. Unless you don't like it."

Leia purses her lips, for a moment. She likes it just fine, it's only that -- it feels like too much. Too rich for her blood, these days.

And yet: this is new for Poe, and she doesn't want to make him feel like it's such old hat to her. She remembers what that felt like, when she was a Junior Senator and woke up alone in a colleague's bed the next morning. And she remembers how different it was with someone who cared about how she felt.

She doesn't love Poe, but she does care about him.

She turns her head further and kisses the heel of his hand. "I don't mind it."

"It's just that I'm only saying it every third time I think it, as it is," Poe says, his smile soft at the edges of his mouth.

"Brown-noser," Leia mutters, but she pats his cheek. "Come on, start undoing my buttons, then."

"My nose is sort of brown," Poe laughs. "But so is the rest of me, General." His eyebrows scrunch, dimples showing beside his eyes.

"Vete a la chingada," Leia mutters. "Buttons, or let me sleep."

"Buttons," Poe agrees promptly, and his fingers only stumble over the first one.

He's always had good hands, and Leia never felt bad for noticing -- from that first time they met across her borrowed desk back at the NRDF, when Poe's hands were still bloody at the knuckles, the only outward sign of his anger at the First Order.

"This is okay?" He confirms, on the third button, glancing up at her from under dark eyelashes. 

"Yes, Poe," she says, and touches his cheek. He isn't as clean-shaven as he is during the days, a good amount of beard already grown in since yesterday morning.

He turns his head and kisses her finger, grinning. "Just checking." 

He gets to the last button of her shirt and pulls it open slowly, still watching her face in case she changes her mind. 

Leia knows that she doesn't look like she used to, and she's fine with that. She looks like the life she's lived: there are scars from blaster wounds and stretch marks, loose skin and rough patches.

Poe's hands are still curled in the hem of her shirt as it hangs open, falling off one shoulder, and he dips his head to kiss her collarbone.

He kisses a path down the middle of her cleavage, nosing at the skin he can get to around the plain cups of her bra. "This off, too?"

"They look better with it on," Leia laughs, and pets his neck, the short hair shaved at the nape.

"I doubt that," Poe says. "But we don't have to take anything else off." He looks up at her through his eyelashes. "I can just take care of you through your panties, if you want."

"The hell you will," Leia says, amused. "That's the most ridiculous thing that's ever come out of your pretty mouth, Dameron."

Poe grins, eyes bright as he goes back to nuzzling at her chest. "Yes, ma'am."

Leia reaches behind herself to unclasp her bra, and Poe hums, his mouth following one cup as it eases down. He inhales sharply when his lips catch her nipple, kisses it tenderly. 

"You'll have to be a little rougher than that," Leia admits. "But it looks very nice."

"Can I use my teeth?" Poe cranes his neck to look up at her, eyes bright. 

Leia has to suppress a shiver at the low lilt of his voice and the sharp smell of him, all warm skin and pheromones and the faint smell of burned carbon that follows all pilots. "Please."

"Tell me if it's too much? Or if you, ah, want more?" He turns his attention to her breast, then, fully, his hands warm, fingertips calloused as he cups her; mouth hot and teeth blunt as he draws the kisses out sharp.

Leia hums, something clenching in a way that hasn't in a long, long time as Poe's teeth and tongue burn warm against her. "That's good."

"Yeah?" Poe sounds impossibly pleased, but he doesn't look up, just turns his attention to her other breast -- he's been running his thumb against her nipple, and he takes it in his mouth, tongue warm before he sucks at her, applying all the steady pressure of his teeth. 

Leia lets herself sigh, push her fingers through his thick hair. "You know it is."

"I need to hear you say it, though," Poe says, lightly. "Want to be sure." 

Leia just keeps petting through his hair, using her nails to scratch at the nape of his neck and the curves behind his ears. "It's good, Poe. I like it. I don't know how to be romantic anymore."

"I don't care about that." Poe eases back, his mouth pink and shiny. "Leia. I know this isn't -- like that, for you. But I want to make it good, if you'll show me how you like it."

Leia smiles. He's sweet, which doesn't surprise her. He deserves sweet in return. "I do like it, Poe, I promise. I'd tell you if I didn't. Have I ever not told you the truth?"

Poe's smile is softer than before. "No, ma'am."

Leia smiles at him, her eyes soft. She kisses his forehead. "See? Trust me. You're a natural."

His cheeks are pink under the day-old stubble when he goes back to kissing his way down her chest. 

She can't imagine that he has _no_ experience, not with that face and the high-adrenaline propensities of pilots, but she isn't going to ask him. He's an adult; he can decide what he wants to do.

He spends another minute marking her breasts in soft pink with his mouth -- nothing that will last long, but Force, it’s pretty now, makes her feel like artwork. He works her nipples into tight peaks with his tongue and teeth, until she wants to tug them herself, just to keep the feeling. 

He seems to sense it and starts to kiss his way down her front, nuzzling and kissing with the same intensity all the way down like he can't tell the difference between his young skin and her crepe skin, the faded white scars all across her belly.

"So soft," he murmurs, sucking the skin at her hip between his teeth and leaving a faint red mark in the shape of his mouth behind.

Leia doesn't bristle. She knows herself, inside and out, and there isn't really that much softness left. If he wants to think so, she’ll let him.

Poe curls his fingers around her hips, thumbs tracing the white lines of her stretch marks. "May I?" 

"You'd better," Leia says, and she grins at him like she's nineteen again and beautiful, or thirty and so, so happy. 

"I have some practice at this," Poe murmurs, peeling her trousers open and down off her hips.

Leia has no trouble believing that, the way that Poe inhales as he gently eases her thighs apart for the width of his shoulders.

Her hip clicks, and Poe just grins up at her, lifts under her knee until she props her leg over his shoulder. It's certainly easier on her hips.

Poe kisses over the slippery silk of her underwear, the last indulgence that Leia really keeps up for herself -- confidence to face the day, she figures.

"You smell incredible," Poe says, softly, rubbing his face against the front of her underwear. “Leia.”

He says her name like it's both a prayer and a delicacy, a holy wafer melting on his tongue.

It makes Leia curious enough to open up to the Force, just a sliver. She keeps herself closed off most of the time not because of the Force itself, but because she learned too long ago that most soldiers feel -- tarnished, even if their souls are bright.

Poe _gleams_.

He’s careful easing her panties down, glances up at her as he untangles them from one ankle and tosses them off the bed. 

Leia huffs a small laugh, and she can read through the Force that it’s what he wanted. He just wants to see her happy, the way he wants to see the whole Galaxy happy. It’s a lot of responsibility, Leia thinks, to be the one making Poe Dameron happy in return.

So she curls her fingers in his hair and guides his face down, because he wants that, thrumming in every touch between them, so electric she could tell even without the Force. 

He doesn't mess around; simply spreads her open with his thumbs and begins.

 _Oh_. It's been too long.

He's as gentle here as he was with her tits earlier -- too gentle, and she'll have to tell him eventually, if she wants to come, but for now it's nice easing into the feeling. His mouth is warm and his tongue is just a little rough, and Leia cants her hips up and sighs.

He moves like he loves this, humming and mumbling encouraging noises into her cunt.

His stubble brings just the hint of a sting against her thighs.

She doesn't get wet the way she used to, but Poe seems to know on instinct to make up for that. Leia's eyes close, and she pinches one of her own nipples, rolls it between her thumb and forefinger.

Poe's palm spreads over her lower stomach, fingers careful not to pull as they rest in her hair, easing her open for Poe's mouth. The heel of his hand holds her still, gently pressing at her pubic bone as he closes his lips around her clit and sucks.

"Maker," Leia sighs. She isn't one to make much noise in bed, but she wants Poe to know that he's doing well.

Poe hums and flicks his tongue against her, rhythmic and firm. Leia can tell he's grinding against the mattress, can watch his ass clench through the thin material of his underwear as he rocks forward in time to his mouth on her.

He tilts his chin, pulling his mouth back, and then he's licking at her in broader strokes, tucking his lip over his teeth and letting her rock against the dull pressure.

Leia shudders in the base of her spine at the way his stubble and the warmth of his tongue and the steadiness of his teeth all work against her clit.

Poe's face is shiny with his own spit when he raises it again. "You taste incredible." He's breathless, panting.

Leia laughs and cups his head in one hand, pressing him back down. "Don't stop."

Poe mutters something adoring and wordless as he lowers his mouth again.

"Just focus on my clit," Leia reminds him, pulling a wayward curl between her fingers.

Poe nods and lets her redirect him, her palm gentle and firm against the crown of his head. His hips stutter against the mattress.

"Good," Leia breathes, and closes her eyes.

Poe has good hair, she thinks, almost absently, as she pulls her fingers gently through the strands, combing his thick curls. He's handsome and warm, and she doesn't know why he's chosen to be in her bed, but she's glad for it.

She comes in a long, slow, rolling wave, so slight at first that she's not sure whether she's still chasing the orgasm when finally it crests.

He carries her through it, still suckling her clit, his hands digging into her hips, and at the last she pushes him away, the sensation too intense.

"Well," Leia sighs, opening her eyes. "That's been a while. Thank you, Poe."

Poe is breathing hard against the crease of her hip and thigh, his mouth wet against her skin. He nods, vaguely.

"Come up here," Leia requests. "I'd like to kiss you again."

"Please," Poe says, lifting his head. His face is flushed, and sticky, and oh, he looks young like this.

Leia cups his cheeks in both hands once he's crawled up over her, long and lean and hips narrow and tight and pretty.

Poe grimaces apologetically. "Sorry, I know I’m all messy--"

"No, it's nice," Leia murmurs, and she swipes her thumbs under his sticky lower lip. "It's nice to be wanted."

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," Poe says, and he still sounds somewhat apologetic, but he's smiling like he can't believe he actually got to.

"Don't tell me," Leia says, straight-faced. "It'll make me feel old."

"Yes ma'am. I just meant--" he flusters so easily in bed, in a way he doesn't outside of it. It's cute. "More about the wanting than about how long it had been."

"I'm glad," Leia says. "I want..." she lets her palm lead the way down his chest, over his stomach. The muscles there jump as she traces over them lightly. She looks him in the eye before tucking her hand into the waistband of his briefs.

"Oh," Poe says, faintly, "you don't have to-- I wasn't expecting--"

"I said I _want_ to," Leia says. "I might be a princess, but I'm not a pillow princess." She snorts at her own joke. She feels younger than she has in years right at this moment. "I want you, Poe. But I'm not going to ask you to do anything _you_ don't want."

He grins too, and eases further down on his elbows, kissing her sweetly. "I want to. Can I get you off again if we do that?"

Leia shakes her head. "Not anymore. I'm one-and-done these days. But I'd still like to-- " she swallows the words, because she doesn't want to _fuck_ him; he's too nice for that, and she isn't going to make love to him, either. "I want to have sex, if you do."

Poe manages to mask the disappointment with a wider smile, but his kiss is wistful. "If you're sure."

Leia nods, and she keeps her eyes on his as she does, finally, reach down into his underwear and wrap her hand around his cock. "I'm very sure."

He groans, deep at the back of his throat, and tenses above her, biting his lip.

"Can you take these off?" Leia asks, tugging at the elastic with her other hand. "I want to see."

"Yeah, yes." Poe scrambles back and shucks the underwear down his thighs, looking up at her.

Leia hums appraisingly as she weighs his cock in her hand, giving it a little squeeze. He feels good in her palm, warm velvety skin, and when she curls her fingers his cock twitches eagerly, precome shiny at the tip.

Poe's thighs are trembling slightly, and his ribs are heaving with how heavy his breathing has become. He can't seem to take his eyes away from the sight of her hand on him. His jaw's hanging open, just enough that she can see the bright pink inside of his lip. It's sweet, and earnest, and she _likes_ him.

Her body complains as she bends to kiss the head of his cock, but it’s worth it for the way Poe squeaks, and covers his face with one forearm.

"I -- what?" 

Leia has to pull back just so she doesn't nick him with her teeth when she starts to laugh. She turns it into kisses against his hip until she has her breath back and can try again.

Poe looks at her over his arm. "Sorry, I'm... I _have_ done this part before, I just... you're you."

Leia pinches his thigh, the meaty inside covered in soft dark hair, and Poe goes quiet, still. He seems to have his wits about him now that he knows what to expect, and his soft, encouraging noises when she sucks the head of his cock back into her mouth are indistinct but pretty.

She hollows her cheeks and glances up with only her eyes. Poe is resolutely staring at the wall. She can practically hear him reciting limmie rules in his head.

It's nice to know she hasn't lost her touch entirely. His cock bobs up against her chin, and she steadies it with one hand, licks at the salty bead of precome at his slit.

Poe's hands lift in her peripheral vision, reaching towards her, and then he seems to think better of it and they fold into fists at his sides. His fingers twitch.

Leia gives him another wet kiss and straightens up, stretching slowly. "Let me get the lube."

Poe nods, looking dazed and red-cheeked. Leia can't resist tilting up to kiss his cheek before she moves away from him.

"Are you sure you want this?" she asks, her hand at his waist.

"Very," Poe confirms, reaching up to touch her arm, her shoulder.

Leia smiles, still soft and warm all over from coming on his pretty lips.

She hasn't had a reason to retrieve the small vial of expensive lube from its satin pouch, tucked deep in a drawer of clothes. She does now, though, and she could shiver just thinking of the slippery way Poe's fingers will shine in the dim light. Pilots are good with their hands, as a rule.

Poe is watching her solemnly when she turns back to the bed, crosses the room to return to him.

"Lie down," Leia says, and Poe does, slowly, watching her with eyes so warm that they almost make her feel shy.

She eases onto the bed and runs her fingertips up Poe's arm. "Here. It's expensive, don't waste it."

"You want me to--?" Poe shivers, staring up at her.

"I can do it myself," Leia says, and she's not embarrassed, but she's as close as she's been in a long time. "I just... you have nice hands."

"Please," Poe says. "I'd like to. Can I sit up?"

Leia nods and moves to the side.

Poe sits up and crosses his legs to sit folded -- when Leia was a child, they called it _Loneran style_ , but she never would today -- and picks up the little bottle of lubricant. He reads it like it's a new flight manual, eyebrows raised.

"This is fancy," he says, looking up at her. "Sure I'm worth it?"

There's no one else Leia would use it with, not now. "Very sure, Dameron. Come on."

For a moment he looks like his father, sparkling eyes and jutting chin, pleased. Leia closes her eyes.

"Do you wanna lie down?" Poe asks. "Or like..."

Leia eases back on the pillows and lets her legs spread slowly. "Show me how good your hands really are, Commander."

Poe nods, his eyes still bright, and uncaps the bottle. He sniffs it curiously, then spreads a few drops on his fingertips.

His fingers are cool against the insides of her thighs, but it's not why Leia shivers. She tugs him forward by the other arm so that he's hunched over her, and leans up to kiss him.

He starts slower than she would have thought, given that he knows she's already come. Just one finger, tracing like he's learning the shape of her, and maybe he is.

"Oh, you're warm," he says, his lips twitching up against hers in a smile through their kiss.

"Well, yeah, I'm not dead yet," Leia says drily. But she smiles back at him and combs her fingers through that _hair_ again.

"No," Poe agrees. "You are very not dead yet." He crooks his finger and rubs the pad of his thumb alongside her clit.

Leia sighs and leans back against the pillows. She isn't going to come again, but it still feels nice. It feels good to be the center of someone's attention for something other than... war. It feels good to know that Poe wants her to feel good.

He doesn't ask her, but he's slow easing a second finger inside, gives her time to relax into it.

She's glad that she doesn't actually need to voice the need for a little more lube -- he just gets it, dribbles another few drops right onto her folds and sweeps his fingertips through it before he presses in again.

She eases her legs wider, tilts her hips up. There's not the same sense of urgency there would've been before, but Force, she still wants him.

Poe bites his lip and leans over her, watching her face as he works his fingers.

"I'm good," Leia tells him, squeezing his shoulder. "Poe."

Poe nods and leans close enough to kiss her. He does, finally, moves without her having to move first, his mouth warm and soft and still tasting faintly of Leia.

Leia sucks on his lower lip and wraps her arms around his neck. His dick is pressed up against her stomach, and Leia tugs the curls at the nape of his neck. "Poe."

"Mm-hmm?" He murmurs, and kisses her again.

"I'm ready when you are," Leia says. "Just so you know."

"I am _so_ ready," Poe breathes, incredulously. "Are you sure?"

"Dameron." Leia levels him with a look. "I'm not going to tell you again, I just told you."

Poe kisses her again, and sits back on his knees between her legs. "Yes ma'am." He curls one hand around his cock and takes a deep breath. “Ah, I should’ve asked before, I wasn’t thinking, do you have condoms? I can go get mine, I just don’t have them with me--”

"I don't keep them around these days," Leia says. "I'm -- you're not going to get me pregnant, you know. And I haven't... it's been a while."

Poe grins. "Well, I haven't ever, so. Are you sure? I don't mind getting some. It won't take five minutes."

Leia smirks at him. "I'd hope you don't mind getting some, but I also hope it'll take more than five minutes."

Poe turns pink, and Leia laughs. "Really, Dameron. I'm fine without if you are."

He touches her thigh, fingers warm in a way that would've been ticklish ten years ago. "I'll trust your judgment, Leia." 

It makes Leia feel surprisingly shy to hear her first name from Poe's lips, even though it's not the first time. There aren't many people who call her 'Leia' on a regular basis anymore. There haven't ever really been more than a few at a time.

Poe, bless him, doesn't notice the effect. He's digging for the flask of lube in the sheets. When he finds it, he pours a little into his palm, working it over his cock quickly. "You're comfortable like this?" 

Leia nods, reaches behind herself to adjust the pillows behind her neck. "As much as I can be."

Poe eases over her, kisses her like he did only a few minutes ago -- this time, though, his hand is easing her thighs open, and he's not holding his weight up. Instead, he's just settling against her body: carefully, but not like she's going to break. He knows her better than that. 

Leia sighs and tucks her legs up around his hips, ankles crossing at the small of his back.

Poe exhales shakily, breath hot against Leia's mouth. She'd thought he might close his eyes, but he's still gazing down at her, bright and shocked, as his cock nudges up against her cunt. 

Poe rocks against her, just testing, his cock sliding up against her clit, and for a moment Leia wishes she _could_ come again, just for the look on his face. 

Leia wriggles her hand down between them and touches his cock carefully, just to help him find the right angle.

The way his hips hitch up at the touch is instinctual, but he keeps still after that. His eyelashes are fluttering almost in perfect time with the way her body is tightening around the head of his dick. 

Leia presses her thighs against his sharp hipbones, squeezes his narrow waist lightly with her legs, and urges him forward.

His head finally drops, eyes closing, against her shoulder. 

He's a good size, comfortable and curved in just the right way as he finally slides in and bottoms out.

"I'm just-- hold on," he mutters, kissing her shoulder sloppily. 

"There's no rush," Leia says softly, and she strokes long and soft down his neck and over the smooth length of his back. There are thin patterns of scars all down his skin, but nothing that makes her catch her breath and wonder who _hurt_ him. 

"Sorry," Poe breathes, turning his face to press against her neck and kiss beneath her ear. "You feel so incredible, I don't want to fuck this up."

Leia's lips twitch. "Just keep complimenting me and it'll be fine."

"I thought you hated that." Poe's teeth graze her earlobe as he smiles. "It's the only reason I don't do it more."

"Maybe I get a little soft and mushy when there's a beautiful boy in my bed," Leia says. "Don't tell, everyone'll want to try."

"Our secret," Poe agrees. "Fuck, you do, though, you feel so good." 

"You, too," Leia says, because it's true, but also because his eyes are so warm and earnest. 

He kisses her, so softly, then, just lips touching, and eases his hips back, rocks their bodies slowly together again.

Leia's eyes flutter shut. It's been a long, long time since she had sex that was any good, and even longer since she's had sex with anyone besides herself.

Poe kisses her eyelids and the bridge of her nose. "'s this okay? Slower?" 

"It's fine, it's good. Faster, if anything, but this is for you. I already got off."

Poe groans, and shifts his elbows on the mattress, either side of her shoulders. It puts more weight behind each thrust, and Leia can feel his heart pounding where their chests press together. 

If she closes her eyes, she can almost forget that she's on another Force-forsaken rebel base, a klick underground, in a bed made to fit only one person.

Poe touches her shoulder, her hair where it's spread across the pillow, with shaking fingers. "Sorry, I'm--" 

"Shh," Leia hushes him, squeezing her thighs around his waist again. "Don't be sorry, it's what I expected."

"Doesn't make me feel better," Poe laughs, and he's still laughing against her collarbone as he comes, hips pressing hers into the mattress. 

Leia closes her eyes, shivering at the feeling of his cock pulsing inside her, strong and flush. 

It's been a long time since she felt _wanted_.

Poe shudders, nosing at her throat. "Fuck, Leia." 

She kisses his forehead where she can reach, the softly damp curls of his hair. "Poe."

"Sorry, am I squashing you?" Poe eases back slightly, lifting his head. His forehead is shiny with sweat, eyes sleepy. 

"You're fine," Leia laughs. "I don't mind a bit of a cuddle, Dameron."

Poe relaxes again immediately, resting his chin on her shoulder, watching her lazily out of his peripheral vision. His fingertips are playing with the hair behind her ear.

"You're amazing," he says. His eyes blink heavily, but his breathing is steady. It's not a post-coital blurt of enthusiasm, Leia thinks. He means it.

"I mean it," he says, as if he's read her mind. She can feel him as a warm presence at the base of her skull, but there's still no evidence he has the same Force sensitivity -- he's just able to read her that well. 

It's a little worrying, honestly. Leia isn't the kind of person who tries to be _inscrutable_ , but she's survived as long as she has by being hard to read.

Then again, his parents managed to break through that facade, too. Damerons; they're too nice, the lot of them.

"You're not bad yourself," she settles on, rolling onto her side to smile at him. Her hips creak and protest the way she closes them after being spread so much wider than usual for so long.

Poe huffs. "That's being generous. I _am_ sorry about that. I wanted at least a little bit longer to try to make it good for you." 

"I... well, I wasn't just talking about the sex," Leia admits, "But even that wasn't bad, Poe. You more than made up for it, and besides, I can't come more than once anymore."

Poe tilts his head to rest against hers. "I know, I believed you earlier. I just -- I still wanted you to enjoy it, I guess. I don't like feeling selfish." He makes a face. "And I guess that makes me a bit selfish."

Leia laughs at him -- as nicely as she can, she thinks, and rests her palm against his cheek. "Poe Dameron, you are quite possibly the _least_ selfish person I know. Don't worry about it. You'll make your significant other real happy one of these days."

Poe flushes and blinks slowly. "Thanks. I hope so?”

Leia pats his cheek and rolls over so that he's behind her, leaving the blankets pooled at their waists to invite him to snuggle up. "I'm sure of it." She pauses. "You can't spend the whole night, but -- "

"I'll leave before anyone is up," Poe agrees, curling around her back. His cock is sticky and soft against her ass, and somehow it's endearing. 

Leia reaches behind her and pats his hip. "Good man." She's quiet. "I'm not usually asleep yet."

"Me, neither," Poe admits. "I don't need much sleep."

Leia knows that lie. "I'm the same way."

Poe slides his arm over her waist, and pulls the blanket up. "Do you want me to set an alarm?" 

"I've got it," Leia says. The datapad is on her side of the bed anyway, sitting on her bedside table. 

Poe kisses the back of her neck as she leans to turn on her usual alarm setting. "If I ever make things awkward you can demote me," he says, sleepily. 

"If I ever make you awkward," Leia says, after a long stretch of quiet, "Report me."

Poe kisses her shoulder, this time, the side of her face. "Deal." 

Leia isn't sure that she believes him, but she meant it. The last thing she wants is to hurt him, Shara Bey's son. 

Poe hums something, mouth vibrating against her skin, and then says, "Does that mean it might happen again, General?"

Leia licks her lips. She's already a little sore inside, but in a way that she's _missed_ , just the reminder of having someone moving inside her and opening her up. Making her muscles tired from something other than _stress_. 

"Only if that's what you want," she says. "I can't... if I make you feel like I expect that, then -- "

"I don't feel that way at all," Poe promises. "I just didn't want to _assume_." 

"I'm not in the market for a boyfriend," Leia warns him. "I'm too old for that."

"You're out of my league, ma'am," Poe is grinning against her neck. 

"Pfask," Leia mutters. "Just go to sleep, Dameron."

Poe nods, his arm tightening around her for a moment. "Yes ma'am."

_Two Standards Later_

Leia looks across the briefing table and through the projection of the Inner Rim, the Western Reaches flashing slightly as the ancient, ignored trade route lights up planet by planet. It's hard to imagine elegant Lor San Tekka anywhere on the Thieves' Chute, but Black Squadron's intel has all checked out in the past. The old professor -- Leia vaguely remembers his lectures from when Mon insisted she at least _try_ University after the last war -- is on Jakku.

He and his map to Luke.

There's only one pilot she trusts enough to find him and retrieve the map.

It doesn't mean she's pleased about it, though.

Poe meets her eyes across the wide table. "I can trade out Black One for a fixer-upper at my dad's place. He keeps 'em able to fly."

"We can spare you a day or two for the stop-over," Leia agrees. She knows it's a lot to ask, and the least she can do is offer him the time to see his father.

Poe nods and scratches his chin. He does that when he's nervous, she knows -- it's one of his tells that he doesn't think he has.

"There's no one else I can ask to do this," Leia says, quietly.

"I'd be insulted if you did." Poe smiles at her. It's his professional smile, Commander Dameron. The rest of Black Squadron stand around the table, too, with Brance and Ematt and Statura and Ackbar.

[Bwee-woop!]

"Of course, Beebee-Ate, you will accompany Commander Dameron," Leia assures the droid as it powers down the holoprojection.

It blurts a pleased noise and rolls backwards against Poe's knees. Poe grins down at it. He pats its dome absently with a hand that had been inside Leia only hours earlier. Not that anyone in the room knows that.

Leia gives herself a little shake. "Alright. Meeting dismissed. I want to have a word with Poe."

She watches Kare kiss Poe's cheek and Snap clap him on the shoulder as Black Squadron file out of the briefing room. There's a dull sheen on the Force coming off of her best pilots like they're all too prepared never to see Poe again.

"Once you have the map, I want you to come straight back," Leia tells him. "No heroics, Dameron, no going off to find my brother on your own. Understood?"

"I'm not supposed to look up at him with big eyes and say, 'help me, Luke Skywalker, you're my only hope'?" Poe grins like he isn't scared.

"As much as he would enjoy that," Leia snorts. "No."

Poe's smile falls and his adam's apple bobs. "I'll come back."

"You'd better." Leia won't allow herself to think of the alternative. She can't afford to play favorites, now more than ever.

"I always do." Poe runs his hands through his hair. "Leia -- "

"Don't." She leans on the edge of the table. "You can tell me when you get back, if you still want to."

Poe's smile is fleeting but real. "Count on it, ma'am. I'll be wheels up in twenty."

Leia leans up on her toes so that she can kiss him, holding onto the lapels of his crisp jacket. His mouth is still as soft and sweet as it was before he left her quarters on silent bare feet early this morning, carrying his boots so that his steps didn't make any noise. The kiss is short: _this isn't a goodbye_. When Poe pulls back, Leia brushes imaginary dust off the shoulder of his jacket. "May the Force be with you."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading another one of the little fluffy bites in this series! We can be found on Tumblr at [nichestars](http://nichestars.tumblr.com) and [aimmyarrowshigh](http://aimmyarrowshigh.tumblr.com) respectively.


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